


Pictures at an Exhibition

by Haro



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 2018 Winter Olympics, Big Bang!!! on Ice, Canon Compliant, Drama, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Romance, Sports, a few mentions of actual skaters but nothing more prominent than we get in canon, yuuri wins ALL the gold
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 05:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13804389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haro/pseuds/Haro
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki is Japan’s Ace figure skater. He’s the pride of Japan and he’s never been better. Silver at the Grand Prix Final, gold at Four Continents, and now, the newly crowned World Champion. But next season will be the most important figure skating season of Yuuri’s life; the 2018 Winter Olympics in PyeongChang, South Korea.  Follow Yuuri throughout his Olympic year. With Victor by his side, will he, despite all the pressure and expectations on his shoulders, be able to shine his brightest on the world’s biggest stage? An Olympic year fic told in vignettes.(He wins gold, of course, but it's about the journey as much as the destination.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Big Bang!!! On Ice on tumblr. 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has supported me throughout writing this. I'm a huge figure skating fan and a huge Yuuri Katsuki fan, so it's an honor to write about two things I love so much. I do promise that this fic will be much less stressful than the actual skating season has been this year. lol 
> 
> This fic should be easy to follow even if you're not familiar with figure skating past what we see in the show itself. I tried to explain things where necessary. 
> 
> My two artists, who were very patient with how much I procrastinated on this by the way, can be found at the following links- 
> 
> [ximsketchs did this lovely piece of Victor and Yuuri from the second scene in chapter one](https://ximsketchs.tumblr.com/post/171298064364/my-collab-for-the-bigbangonice-a-drawing)
> 
> [AmberUltramarine created this great art of Yuuri skating at the Olympics as well as a scene featuring Victor and Yuuri's moment in chapter one, both of which you can find here](https://amberultramarine.tumblr.com/post/171297682118/pictures-at-an-exhibition-bboi)

Yuuri had participated in dozens of press conferences throughout his skating career; from the time he was considered Japan’s junior star at just fifteen, to the present. Nonetheless even now he felt nervous during them, though he’d grown better over time at swallowing his anxiety, letting it sit in the pit of his stomach and ignoring it.

Tonight for only the second time ever at a senior international event, Yuuri sat in the middle of the table, flanked by skaters on both of his sides.

He’d won the 2017 World Championships in Helsinki, Finland, and he could still hardly believe it was happening. Flanking him on one side was the bronze medalist, Christophe Giacometti, who had come back from a step out on his triple axel in the short program to skate a flawless free program and land on the third step of the podium. Chris looked content, a small, warm smile on his face.

On the other side of him, the silver medalist; Victor Nikiforov.

Victor Nikiforov. Yuuri had beat him; his fiancé, his coach, his best friend, and his goal. Victor had skated so beautifully that it took Yuuri’s breath away, but even with Victor at his best, Yuuri had won gold.

He still didn’t quite understand. He’d seen the protocols, the breakdown of their respective technical elements scores and program components, and everything made sense. But he still had trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that he had won gold ahead of _the_ Victor Nikiforov. It was everything he’d ever dreamed of and so much more.

Victor was beaming; a wide, easy smile on his face that lacked any of the falseness Yuuri had come to associate with Victor before he knew him. He’d never noticed it before he met him, never realized how much of a front his fiancé put up, but now that he was Yuuri’s, he had trouble even watching old interviews with Victor. They made his heart ache.

Victor let out a quiet laugh as he answered the first question of the night, one about whether he was retiring or not, which he deflected. Had Yuuri really done all of that for him? He felt warmth blossom in his chest at that, and it eased his nerves. He clutched the gold medal around his neck and smiled, eyes averted toward Victor.

Even though he’d lost to Yuuri, he was still in such a good mood.

Victor had challenged Yuuri, told him he wanted to see him in gold, had wanted to see him win. And Yuuri had accepted his challenge; winning his first Four Continents title just a month before. But it was one thing to win international gold, and another to defeat Victor in the process. Would Victor still be happy for Yuuri when he broke his six-year winning streak?

“Athlete Katsuki,” a reporter began, and Yuuri immediately recognized Morooka, “you broke your own free skate world record tonight as well as the overall score record, previously held by Victor Nikiforov. What was your mindset coming into this competition?”

Yuuri shook his head. Who was he kidding; Victor was his biggest fan. He was happy to be outskated by Yuuri Katsuki, and Yuuri thought, as strange as it was to him, that there was no one else Victor would be satisfied with losing to.

Smiling, Yuuri leaned into the microphone.  He let out a wry laugh. “I have to admit, I came here to win.”

Chris let out a quiet snort, and Victor’s grin bloomed even wider. Yuuri flushed as he realized his own words.

“I mean—I wanted to do my best, but of course-- my ultimate goal was to win gold.”

Victor gently elbowed him. “No need to be so modest, Yuuri.” Yuuri’s cheeks pinked further, but he smiled.

“Mr. Nikiforov,” an American reporter asked, “Yuuri Katsuki broke your six-year winning streak tonight. Do you think the time you took off from your career contributed to you not being able to perform up to expectations in this competition?”

Victor’s eyes narrowed. “Mr. Hersh, may I ask why you think I didn’t perform up to expectations? I broke my personal free skate record as well as my previous record for combined score.” His lips turned up in a half smile. “I would offer that instead, I skated better than ever. That Yuuri Katsuki skated better than me tonight doesn’t change that.” He glanced over to Yuuri, who was anxiously fidgeting with his ring.

He didn’t want to be blamed for the downfall of Victor Nikiforov, as irrational as he knew it was.

“I may be an athlete, but I am also Yuuri’s coach, and that role is just as important to me. I’m proud of him, proud of myself, and there is no one else in the world I’d rather lose to.”

Yuuri stopped moving when he felt a tap on his hand. Victor wiggled his fingers, gesturing downward, and understanding, Yuuri moved his arm under the table and clasped Victor’s hand. Victor ran his fingers across the top of Yuuri’s knuckles, smoothly, comfortingly.

“Spoken like a true champion, Mr. Nikiforov,” a woman Yuuri was unfamiliar with said. “Mr. Katsuki, can we hope to see you in Pyeongchang? Surely with your success this season, you have a decent shot at Olympic gold.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened for a moment. He should have expected questions about the Olympics, but he hadn’t really prepared an answer yet.

It was no matter. He knew. Yuuri ran his thumb across Victor’s ring finger under the table.

“I know this might be hard to believe,” he said, “but earlier this season, I was planning on retiring after the Grand Prix Final.” There were hushed whispers throughout the room, and Chris’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “But…” And Yuuri’s eyes went from soft to steely behind his blue framed glasses. “Luckily, I realized what a mistake that would have been, and I plan on staying around for much longer.” He leaned forward, raising his free arm beside him and pumping his fist.

“I’ll absolutely be in Pyeongchang next year. I can’t wait for the opportunity.”

* * *

 

Yuuri was seeing stars by the time he and Victor arrived back at the hotel; or rather, the sheer amount of camera flashes had given him the impression that he was. Even in the hotel lobby he’d been bombarded with flashes and greetings from excited fans to the point he’d been overwhelmed. He felt like a celebrity.

He _had_ been a celebrity for years and years, but never more than now was he so acutely aware of it. When Yuuri had lived in Detroit, he was rarely recognized. In Hasetsu, everyone knew who he was but most people were kind enough to treat him just like any other citizen. In St. Petersburg, where he’d lived the last few months people recognized Victor all the time, and then they’d often recognize Yuuri (after all, what other Japanese man would be with Victor Nikiforov?).

But tonight, in a stadium in Helsinki, in a hotel lobby, it was Yuuri first, then Victor. And as much as it did end up slightly overwhelming, he found that… he didn’t hate it.

Okay, Yuuri admitted to himself, hiding a small blush in the collar of his JSF jacket, he actually kind of liked the attention.

“Yuuri…” Victor interrupted his musings. He’d let go of Yuuri’s hand to get the hotel key out of his wallet, which he quickly swiped. The pair stepped into the room.

Victor was smiling. He hadn’t stopped smiling, and that realization made Yuuri warm inside. The door wasn’t even fully closed before Victor leaned forward, pressing a brief, sweet kiss to Yuuri’s lips.

“I am so, so proud of you,” he whispered against Yuuri’s cheek. “Have I told you yet?”

Yuuri’s lips quirked up in a smile and he rested his arms on Victor’s shoulders. “You’ve said it several times, yes.”

Letting out a low chuckle, Victor stepped backward, from the hallway of the room to the room itself, with Yuuri in his arms. “Darling, I could never say it enough.”

Victor slipped his skate bag off his shoulders and Yuuri followed suit. They’d deposited their bouquets with the concierge, who was refrigerating them until they were leaving two days later.  

“You were amazing too,” Yuuri managed. “You skated so… beautifully. I’ve never seen you skate like that.”

“I was pretty incredible, wasn’t it?” Victor grinned. “But you, Yuuri Katsuki, my fiancé, are the best figure skater in the world.” He unzipped Yuuri’s jacket and pressed a hand to his chest, to the gold medal that still hung around his neck.

Yuuri’s face flared up red, and he gestured with his hands in front of him. “W-winning one world title doesn’t make me the best in the world!” he argued.

Victor pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s medal, then his cheek, before letting out a quiet “hmmm.”

“Victor…”

“I’d disagree. You did, after all, beat the skater previously considered the world’s best, did you not?” As if to emphasize his statement, Victor unzipped his own jacket, revealing his silver medal.

“Yes but…” Yuuri glanced sideways.

Victor tipped his chin back toward him. “And has anyone else managed to beat Russia’s top skater, Victor Nikiforov, since… hmmm 2011?”  Yuuri shook his head in the negative.

“As your coach, I want you to be the best in the world.” Victor smiled. “That you are, isn’t a defeat for me, it’s a victory.”

Yuuri pressed his lips together resolutely and nodded. “Okay. Okay, I understand.” He moved to sit down on the bed, pulling off his sneakers after he’d done so. “But even then, you’re still number one in the ISU World Standings.”

Victor laughed. “Only because it takes the past two seasons into account. You’ll be at the top of that ranking in no time.” He plopped down next to Yuuri, the springs bouncing beneath him. “Especially after you win the Olympics.”

“I’m not--- you think I can win the Olympics?” Yuuri’s mouth dropped open.

“It’s a competition like any other.” Victor took his hand, rubbing circles on the top of his palm. Yuuri squeezed back. “You’re the most gifted skater I’ve ever had the privilege of watching. I’m confident you can win.”

Yuuri bit his lip to hide a smile. “And you?”

“What about me?”

“Will you be okay with wearing silver, even at the Olympics?” Yuuri’s smile had turned into a full-blown grin. A challenge.

Victor let out a deep sigh. “I already have one Olympic silver medal, so it wouldn’t bug me.” He paused and turned to face Yuuri, taking his other hand and clasping both in his lap. “But Yuuri, instead of that, can I offer up another idea?”

Yuuri blinked. “What?”

Victor glanced down for a second as if getting his bearings, and stared straight at Yuuri, his blue eyes bright and sincere. “I’ve gone to three Olympic games already, darling. I’ll be twenty-nine by next February, and… that’s a long time to be around for a figure skater, isn’t it?”

Yuuri let out a nervous laugh.

“I need to focus on the things that mean most to me. For me, that’s you, and my position as your coach.” He shook his head. The gel in his silver bangs was losing its hold, hours after they had been styled, and wisps of them fell over his eyes.

“Are you saying…?”

Victor smiled, small and sweet. “I want to go to the Olympics next year, yes. But I want to go as your coach, part of your delegation.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened, and he inhaled deeply. “You’re going to retire?”

“The Olympics are… huge, Yuuri,” he continued. “You can’t dedicate just half your time to preparing for the Olympics. Even outside of skating, I’d constantly be traveling for endorsements, publicity, engagements, months before the games.” Victor reached forward and pushed a piece of Yuuri’s hair behind his ear. “I know you were busy before Sochi, but it will be three times as much work for you coming in as the current World Champion. Dozens of companies, television shows, magazines, and of course your own federation, are going to want a piece of Yuuri Katsuki.” Victor smiled at this, as if proud. Yuuri glanced down and sideways, finding the carpet of the hotel to be very fascinating. “And I’m so happy for you, because you deserve that.”

“Would you still have made this decision,” Yuuri asked, his voice small, “if I hadn’t won Worlds?”

Victor nodded firmly. “Yuuri, if you hadn’t _medaled_ at Worlds I’d still have made this decision. I want nothing more than to take you to the Olympics, to see you shine like I know you can on the world’s biggest stage.” He placed a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, and Yuuri turned back to face him. “I want to be with you on this journey every step of the way; every silly commercial, every ice show, every interview. I want my focus entirely on you.”

“I-I could get someone else to help you coach me, just temporarily? Victor… I don’t want to take this from you.” Yuuri’s eyes were flashing, wetness building up in the corners of them.

Victor reached forward and wiped Yuuri’s tears away before they could fall. “Do you think I want to go the Olympics and march with someone else but you, stay in the village with someone else but you, and have to dedicate most of my time to myself and my own competition, as opposed to helping you?” He let out a brief laugh. “Yuuri, I’ve been doing that for fifteen years. It’s time for me to move on.”

“But you’re still so good…”

Victor frowned. “I’m never going to stop skating. I’ll skate so long the world will grow tired of seeing me out on the ice…”

Yuuri let out a snort. “No one could ever get tired of that.”

Ducking his head to hide a small blush at Yuuri’s praise, Victor continued. “I found something I enjoy more than competing though, and something I’d rather do.” He raised his head and grabbed both of Yuuri’s hands, clasping them, chest height, between them. “Please Yuuri, let me be selfish and do this. I know people want to see me skate next year, I know Russia wants to see me skate next year, but what I want is this.”

Yuuri’s eyes welled up fully and he squeezed Victor’s hands, then let go so he could pull the other man into a tight embrace. He pressed Victor’s head into his shoulder and let out a sob. “How can you just say things like that? Of course it’s not selfish to do what you want. Here I am taking Victor Nikiforov from the skating world, and you’re saying _you’re_ selfish?”

Victor stiffened for a moment, then sighed. He leaned up and pressed a kiss to the underside of Yuuri’s chin. “No one took me away from anything. I very willingly went. I was going to have to retire eventually. I’m just glad I’m getting to do it in a manner that makes me so happy. I have something to look forward to now, every single day.” He ran a finger across Yuuri’s cheeks, under his eyes, wiping the tears away.

Yuuri found himself breathless at his expression; the love in his eyes, the soft, adoring smile.

Victor… really did want this.

“I tried not to ever think about retiring, because I had no idea what there was for me after skating,” he said softly. “But now, with you, I’m not afraid at all. I’m excited.”

Yuuri felt something inside of him melt, and Victor’s words were like honey to his soul. God, he adored this man.

“I love you,” Yuuri finally said, after several moments of silence.

Victor’s eyes widened. “I love you too.”

“And I want you to do what makes you happy. You’re not selfish.”

Victor nuzzled under Yuuri’s chin, his soft hair brushing against him. “And neither are you, my Yuuri.”

Yuuri nodded, resolute. He sat up straight, knocking Victor off his shoulder in the process. Victor laughed a bit at this and kept his arms around Yuuri.

“Okay.” He leveled his gaze at Victor, brown eyes intense. “Victor Nikiforov, will you be my coach, and only my coach, for the rest of my career?”

“I told you I would months ago.”

Yuuri’s cheeks pinked. “Y-yes, but I mean as your only job. If you’re not competing any longer it…” Yuuri huffed. “I was trying to make this official.”

Victor let out a loud laugh and kissed Yuuri’s temple. “I was under the impression we were already very much official.” He gestured toward the ring on his finger. “Is this not an engagement ring?”

Yuuri chewed on his lip for a moment. “Of course it is! You know what I mean.” He exhaled. “Victor, please stay with me and only me during the Olympic season. I know I can be a lot, but… with you by my side, through everything.” He glanced down at the medal around his neck, gleaming gold and full of whispered promises. “Maybe I really can bring home gold.”

“Oh darling, you can, and you will.”

 

* * *

 

Just three weeks after the World Championships, for only the second time in the history of the event, Team Japan took gold at the World Team Trophy. The USA took bronze, and Russia took silver, although without the help of Victor, who like a few other top skaters, had decided not to compete. He was there as Yuuri’s coach exclusively, and though he had not officially announced his retirement, the rumors had already begun.

“You’re going to need to issue a statement soon,” Yuuri said as they sat backstage awaiting his turn to skate in the gala. “It’s all anyone has been talking about.”

Victor frowned. “I know, but I need to talk to the FFKK first.” He let out a short laugh. “Yuuri, they’re going to be _so_ mad.”

Yuuri furrowed his brows in frustration. “They have no right to be angry with you! You’ve spent half your life providing them with medal upon medal.”

But then Yuuri realized, there had a playful tone to Victor’s voice, almost mischievous. He wasn’t worried about the FFKK being angry. He was perhaps, even if just a little bit, _delighted_.

Yuuri let out a quiet snort.

“You don’t care what they think anyway, do you?”

Victor’s lips quirked up in a small smile, but then he shook his head and frowned. “If I cared what they thought, if I listened to them, I would still be in a very dark place right now.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened and he squeezed Victor’s hand, leaning his head against his shoulder.  “You realize once you make an announcement, you probably can’t take it back, right?”

He shrugged. “Love, go out there and skate. Show them there’s far more interesting things to talk about than my retirement.”

 

**Victor Nikiforov Retires, Will Coach Yuuri Katsuki Full Time Going into the Olympic Season**

_St. Petersburg, Russia; May 3, 2017_

After much speculation, five-time world champion and Olympic gold medalist figure skater, Victor Nikiforov of Russia, announced his retirement yesterday in a statement issued to the press.

“I’ve had a long and successful career,” the skating legend said, “and I could not be more thankful to my federation, my fans, and the skaters and coaches I’ve met along the way for helping me in that journey. However, I have reached a point where I think that I will find more satisfaction in focusing exclusively on coaching than I do in skating. Going forward, I will be dedicating my time to coaching Yuuri Katsuki full time. I’m thrilled with my decision, and I can’t wait to see what the future brings.”

When asked if he’d been injured, Victor assured the press that he was an excellent health, “as much as I can be, at least. I am quite a bit older than a lot of the men’s field,” he laughed.

He also reassured the press that his retirement has nothing to do with his recent loss to Yuuri Katsuki at the World Championships in Helsinki. “Actually, I would not have come back to figure skating in the first place if it were not for Yuuri Katsuki motivating me. I saw in him someone that had the fire, passion, and talent in him to challenge me, and I wanted to compete against him. To continue to compete against Yuuri would be a privilege and an honor, and I don’t at all consider it discouraging to have lost to him. If anything, I felt more invigorated by the sport than I had in years.”

The FFKK issued a formal statement regarding Nikiforov’s retirement this morning.  “We were notified of Victor Nikiforov’s retirement last week, and we wish him the best of luck in his continued success and happiness wherever his career may take him.”

Many fans and journalists found the statement to be short and curt, especially as Nikiforov is undoubtedly the brightest star the federation has had since it was formed in 1992. There are rumors of undercurrents of tension between the federation and Nikiforov, exacerbated greatly by this decision.

“We find it distasteful that he, our greatest hope for an Olympic gold medal, has decided to retire just months before the games, and to coach a rival federation’s skater at that,” an anonymous official is quoted to have said.

“It’s a slap in the face that he can’t push himself to stay around just one more season. If he were coaching a Russian skater, it might be more acceptable, but he is not even giving us the dignity of that,” another stated.

“One wonders what would be ‘enough’ for these officials,” retired skater Yulia Lipnitskaya responded on social media. “Victor has competed in three Olympics and given Russia three individual Olympic medals as well as one in the team event. He’s twenty-eight years old, and he’s contributed more than his share to his country. I support whatever his next endeavor is, even if it is solely coaching Katsuki to his dreams of Olympic gold.”

Nikiforov took a hiatus from skating in April of 2016 to coach Japan’s Yuuri Katsuki through the Grand Prix series, leading to Katsuki’s success at the Grand Prix Final last December, where he won silver and broke Nikiforov’s record for the highest free skate score of all time. After the competition, Nikiforov announced his return to the sport but said he would remain Katsuki’s coach while competing himself. He took gold at Russian Nationals, the 2017 European Championship, and then earned personal bests, but finished second to Katsuki at the 2017 World Championship. Nikiforov and Katsuki are known to be in a romantic relationship, and the two currently live together at an apartment in St. Petersburg, Russia, training at the Yubileyny Sports Palace.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Yuuri received his Grand Prix assignments in late May; the NHK trophy, which he’d expected as Japan’s top skater, and Skate America. He’d been so busy with press that he’d almost forgotten the day they were to come out, which Victor affectionately teased him for. Yuuri had always been popular in Japan, but since he won his world title, the attention and commitments he had, had more than quadrupled. There were commercials, there were interviews, there were photoshoots, and there were meetings and dinners with his sponsors, which he never got used to. He felt anxiety creeping up his spine as he thought of how much worse it was going to be as they got close to the Olympics. 

He took a deep breath, tracing figures on the ice to relax himself. Victor had been through this time and time again. Victor was one of the most recognized people in his entire country and had been for a decade. And he’d be there for Yuuri, he would be staying by his side this entire journey.

Yuuri would be fine. He ignored the shouting from across the rink, probably Yurio again, and launched into a clean, perfect triple axel.

He’d barely put his free leg down before he heard enthusiastic applause, and he smiled, knowing it was Victor.

“Beautiful, Yuuri,” he skated toward him, his training jacket tied loosely around his waist and his hair pushed out of his eyes. “You know there’s no one in the world who has a triple axel close to yours in quality.”

Yuuri’s cheeks pinked. “Victor…”

“And it’s only gotten better this past year,” he continued. “The height on it is outstanding.”

Scratching the back of his head, Yuuri let out a light laugh. “My loop could use some work though.”

“Your free leg does tend to get a bit sloppy on that one.” Victor tapped his chin. “Your axis often ends up too tilted. But you know, the loop is my weakest jump as well.”

Yuuri grinned, crossing his arms and closing the distance between him and Victor. “I thought it was the axel.”

Victor placed his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders, ignoring Mila who skated around them and nailed a clean triple lutz. “It used to be the axel, until I got lessons from the incredible Yuuri Katsuki several months ago.”

He blushed. When Victor had asked, after Russian nationals, with help on his step sequences and his axel, Yuuri had been almost speechless. Victor was Victor; his coach, his fiance, his best friend. But he was also Victor Nikiforov, the greatest figure skater of his generation, and he thought it pertinent to ask  _ Yuuri Katsuki  _ how to improve. Once he realized how genuine Victor was, that he really thought Yuuri could show him how to be a better skater, Yuuri had been so touched, so overwhelmed with emotion, that he’d nearly cried right there at rinkside (for a moment Victor thought that he’d upset him, before Yuuri reassured him that was certainly  _ not  _ the case).

Yuuri stared up at him fondly. “Well I’m glad to have helped.”

Victor smiled. “Say Yuuri, have you given any more thought to the theme you want to go with this year? You don’t have to choose one, of course, but I do feel like it helped last year and…”

Yuuri shook his head. “I’ve got some ideas, but nothing concrete.” He leaned up and pressed his nose to Victor’s, nuzzling them together. “Right now, why don’t I work on drilling those loops?”

Victor nodded. “Good idea.”

Yuuri’s mind wandered elsewhere as he launched into a triple loop; clean, and again; a wobble, and again; clean. He knew his axel was excellent. It was the one jump he was always confident in, even when he was at his lowest, even when he felt more like a human zamboni than an elite level figure skater.

He also knew, even if he tended to downplay it, that his progress in the past year had been outstanding, especially for a skater of his age. He’d finally mastered the quad salchow, had a consistent quad flip, and he was getting better on the quad lutz each day. Just a year before, the only quadruple jump he could land with any regularity was the toe loop. He’d improved his skating in every aspect; his jumps, his transitions, his footwork, his spins, and even his stamina.

Yuuri knew he could go further. He gained speed via crossovers, and at the last moment, switched to a front outside edge instead of the back outside edge of the loop. He was airborne, and he rotated; one, two, three, one half-- he flew, and something flickered inside Yuuri; a flame of an idea. How much higher would he need to go? How much stronger would he need to be? To get in one more rotation, to make history in a way that no one else had before. He landed on his opposite outside edge, and for a moment, the mere thought of doing that, of just the idea of accomplishing that, made him feel invincible.

He had done so much already, and he would do so much more.

Victor’s blue eyes were blown wide when he looked his way again, and his mouth had dropped open. “Yuuri, that was the best axel I’ve ever seen from you.”

Yuuri just nodded. “I know.”

He laughed. “I assume it felt as good as it looked?”

His lips quirked up in a small smirk. “Even better.” He took a deep breath. “And Victor, I know what my theme is going to be this year.” Victor raised his eyebrows. “It’s ‘triumph’.”

* * *

 

‘Triumph’ was proving just specific enough for Yuuri to know what kind of general feel he wanted from his programs, but just vague enough that it was proving difficult to narrow down music selections and make a decision.

“It has to be perfect,” he whined to Victor one night, head against his shoulder as they scrolled through Yuuri’s music library on his laptop. Victor shifted. The couch may have been big, but he was fine taking up as little space as possible on it if it meant being closer to Yuuri. 

Victor smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of Yuuri’s hair, then nuzzled into his soft hair, letting out a sigh as he did so. “Do you have any ideas, love?”

Yuuri bit his lip and frowned. “Well I was considering something with vocals for my short program. Even though lyrics have been allowed for a few years now, I’ve only ever used instrumentals in competition.”

“That’s a start.”

Victor’s voice was soft in Yuuri’s ear, as he glanced around the apartment; Makkachin was fast asleep in her doggy bed by the bedroom door, and beside it was a small end table with a stack of Yuuri’s books on it.

Well, they were actually Victor’s books, but Yuuri was reading them. The pair had discovered that they were both voracious readers and had been exchanging favorites for months. Yuuri wasn’t at the point that he could read novels in Russian, but Victor had many books in English that he’d picked up while abroad. Similarly, Victor could not yet read Japanese fluently, but Yuuri had a whole stack of favorites he’d read while in Detroit.

On top of the stack was Yuuri’s Japanese to Russian dictionary, which he’d purchased… years ago, before he’d even started training abroad. Takeshi had teased him for it, but it was the only way he was going to be able to figure out what Victor Nikiforov said in his untranslated interviews, right?

Yuuri snorted quietly at that. Now he could just ask him, but he still wanted to learn the language. He knew Victor made an active effort to learn Japanese while they were in Hasetsu, to the point that he’d managed to pick up the Saga-ben dialect, since most of the people who spoke the language frequently around him used it. That Victor sounded so… rural when he spoke his language was strangely charming to Yuuri, even if Victor didn’t even quite understand what was so different about the way he spoke as opposed to Yuuri’s standard Japanese.

Yuuri on the other hand, was learning to speak smooth, normative, St. Petersburg Russian, but despite being immersed in the environment, he still found the language difficult to grasp at times. That he and Victor were from two very different cultures but worked so well together, blended into one another as if they’d always known one another, was special to Yuuri. Cultural misunderstandings between the two were met with a laugh, or at most, mild embarrassment, and they were growing to know each other on every level.

“I was thinking, for my free program, of skating to something Russian,” Yuuri finally spoke.

“You mean like a Russian composer?” Victor asked, and there was a hitch in his voice.

Yuuri nodded, his cheeks pinking. “It’s just an idea. I thought, last season it was important for me… it meant a lot to me, to have you on the ice with me.” He shook his head. “I mean, as in as part of my theme.” Yuuri took a deep breath and pressed his cheek further into Victor’s shoulder. “My theme isn’t love this year, but I still want to show my love for you in my skating. My first idea was to skate to music you’ve used in the past, but I already did that with  _ Stammi Vicino _ , didn’t I?”

Victor nodded. “That’s true, although I do think you’d do a beautiful rendition of  _ The Lilac Fairy _ .”

Yuuri idly scrolled through spotify on his laptop, then loaded a playlist he’d found of pieces composed by Russians throughout music history.

“Thanks, but it doesn’t really fit my theme.” Yuuri’s lips quirked up in a small smile. “Anyway, if you think it’s a strange idea, I can do---”

Victor clasped Yuuri’s hand and squeezed it. “Yuuri, I think it’s a wonderful idea. I’m touched that you thought of it.” He ran a finger along Yuuri’s cheek and smiled, soft and tender. “Though you should know that no matter what you skate to, I’ll always be out there on the ice with you.”

Yuuri leaned into his touch and closed his eyes, letting out a soft hum as he did so. “I know.” He kissed the tips of Victor’s fingers when they made contact with his lips. “But I want everyone else to know too.”

Smile widening, Victor bounced even closer to Yuuri pressing against his side so there was not even a centimeter of space between them. “Let’s see what you have on this playlist. Do you have any favorite composers?”

“Umm nothing unusual. I like Rachmaninoff, Prokofiev, Stravinsky, Mussorgsky…” he paused, “Oh I skated to _ Prince Igor _ as a junior, so I guess Borodin too.”

Victor continued scrolling through the playlist and Yuuri shrugged. “I’m not really that knowledgeable about this kind of stuff, but I want something… grand.”

“Grand?” Victor raised his eyebrows.

“My theme is triumph, and I need a piece that conveys that. If my short program is the beginning of my theme, my free skate is the finale.” He scratched the back of his head. “So it needs to be big or… epic I guess.”

Victor smiled at him. “That’s new territory for you. You don’t generally skate to music like that.”

Yuuri nodded, resolute. “You’re right. At first I was worried if I picked a piece that’s really huge and sweeping, it would overwhelm me.” He shrugged. “I might not have the presence to pull off music with that much power to it, but I have to keep pushing myself to improve in every way.”

“That’s one of the reasons you chose this theme in the first place, isn’t it?” Victor paused the cursor on a piece of music.

“I’ve already overcome so many things I never thought I could, and I’m going to continue to do that for as long as I can. As part of that, I have to try new things, right? You know what you say about surprising people.”

Victor reached around Yuuri’s shoulder and squeezed him, a huge smile wide on his cheeks. “Yuuri, did I ever tell you that you’re incredible?”

Yuuri bowed his head. “A few times, maybe.”

“Well you are,” he chuckled. “And I don’t believe there’s a piece out there that you, Yuuri Katsuki, could not do justice to.”

“Victor…”

“However, I do have one in mind that I have a particular fondness for.” He pressed play and Yuuri squinted at the screen, to read the track title, although he was familiar with it already. “It’s not commonly skated to, and in addition to fitting your theme, it is so very, very Russian.”

“ **[ _The Bogatyr Gates (In the Capital in Kiev)_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9cZ4D5dWkyE) ** **[, by Modest Mussorgsky](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9cZ4D5dWkyE)** ,” he read.

“ _ The Great Gate of Kiev _ , the last movement of his masterpiece,  _ Pictures at an Exhibition _ .”

Yuuri nodded. “I know it. It’s… big.”

“Indeed,” Victor replied.

Yuuri closed his eyes and let the music sweep over him, the rise of the brass instruments, the rush of the woodwinds, the crescendo into the refrain, the deft touch of the violins. It was more than grand, it was ambitious. And Yuuri knew that word;  _ bogatyr _ , from the books Victor had loaned him. It was the Russian version of a knight, a hero, or a warrior. Epic poems were written about bogatyrs, pieces of literature that had lasted century upon century and leaked into the public consciousness within Victor’s country and culture. The piece was about a gate for heroes, and Yuuri was challenging himself to step through it.

But Victor suggested this, Victor thought he was worthy of it. And it was beautiful; it made Yuuri feel something, in the rise and the swell, the crescendo and the diminuendo. He let the sound of it, the feel of it, soak into his veins, and it made him feel powerful; like he could overcome anything, like a bogatyr who fought dragons and giants, or maybe in his case, the anxious voices within his own mind, the constant fight against his own body as he pushed himself harder, faster, further, and perhaps, even a quadruple axel.

Yuuri opened his eyes, and they were huge and wide and filled with so much purpose. “I think this is what I want to skate to, Victor.” He shook his head and let out a short laugh. “It’s weird to say, but it makes me feel…”

“Invincible?” Victor interrupted.

Yuuri nodded. “Something like that.”

Victor pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s temple. “Good. That’s exactly what I was hoping for.”

* * *

 

Summer in Hasetsu was warm, but not unreasonably so. Temperatures petered out in the mid to low eighties, and a trip to Ice Castle or a dip in the ocean was always enough to alleviate any discomfort Yuuri may have had. Victor, on the other hand, was used to the temperate summers of St. Petersburg, but since it wasn’t the first summer he’d spent in Hasetsu, he’d adjusted to it already.

They’d decided to spend a full month visiting home, and Victor had actually called it that which made Yuuri’s heart swell near to the point of bursting. With Ice Castle open for their use, Yuuri wouldn’t even have to lose any practice time. They’d brought Makkachin along as well.

When they’d arrived, Yuuri had expected the pair to stay in his bedroom. The bed wasn’t exactly large, but the two of them had squished in it together before, so it was manageable. On the contrary though, the Katsukis had left the banquet room as an extra bedroom, even after Victor’s departure. While all of Victor’s belongings had been shipped back to St. Petersburg, the bed remained, and they moved a few of Yuuri’s pieces of furniture in there to decorate the bare room further.

July to early August, when they’d be going back to Russia, was his mother’s katsudon and days at the beach and fireworks and so, so much practice; and Yuuri, as he led Victor along the summer festival booths, cherishing the warmth between them, feeling a sense of deja vu. He recalled the summer before, when they’d done many of the same things but under very different circumstances. There was an unspoken _ something _ between them during that time period, and it grew and grew, and they could both feel it, but they dared not speak it yet, both unsure of the response of the other. Last year at the same festival it was deft, quick touches of their fingers, timid pulls on yukata sleeves, and furtive glances as they watched the fireworks blossom in one another’s eyes.

This year they held each other’s hands and stole kisses as they shared dango, they snuggled in on the hill near the ninja castle and paid more attention to each other than to the fireworks. They put flowers in each other’s hair and made a wish together, tying it on the bamboo leaves at the shrine. Victor wore a yukata that Yuuri’s mother had given him as a gift; violet that faded into lighter lavender, with silver flowers around the bottom, instead of the one he’d borrowed from a neighbor last year. Yuuri’s was similar but in blue to light blue, and it was clear to both of them where Mama Katsuki had gotten the inspiration.

The next morning, Yuuri took a still bleary Victor to Ice Castle to show him what he’d been working on.

“You told me you wanted me to have a more active role in my choreography, like I did last season, so I’ve been piecing something together for my short program.”

Victor’s eyes widened and he grinned. “You’ve finally decided on your music?”

Yuuri laughed, scratching the back of his head as he did so. “More than that, I’ve already started choreographing. Phichit helped me cut the music to the correct length, which was pretty easy, but we can get it more professionally done too if we need to.”

Victor leaned against the boards. “Well, I can’t wait to see it. Your free skate’s almost done, so I was hoping you’d have a decision soon.”

“Okay. I already have the CD in, so just push play when I’m in position, okay? And ah, please record it on your phone if you could.”

Victor nodded and Yuuri skated to center ice, taking a deep breath and crossing one leg behind the other, his left arm at his side and his right bent over his chest, fingers splayed against it.

**[The strains of a piano filled the rink](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KrT_0J6m6y8)** , and Yuuri launched into his program, the vocals joining just a few moments into it. There were several empty holes in the choreography, places where Yuuri hadn’t figured out what he wanted to do and was waiting to ask Victor’s assistance on, but the overall result was… well, Victor thought it was magical.

 

_ Now I fly, hit the high notes _

_ I have a voice, have a voice, hear me roar tonight _ __   
_ You held me down _ _   
_ __ But I fought back loud, oh

 

Yuuri had incorporated elements that he only did during exhibitions most of the time; a deep edged and perfect outside edge spiral, a Russian split jump right on the beat of the chorus, a cantilever which he then launched into his triple axel out of. The choreography was delicate but powerful, and while the lyrics talked about being a bird set free, and truly Yuuri looked as if he was flying, Victor found himself so enraptured that he thought he may be able to soar along with him.

 

_ And I don't care if I sing off key _ __   
_ I find myself in my melodies _ __   
_ I sing for love, I sing for me _ __   
_ I shout it out like a bird set free _ __   
_ No, I don't care if I sing off key _ __   
_ I find myself in my melodies _ __   
_ I sing for love, I sing for me _ _   
_ __ I'll shout it out like a bird set free

 

He ended the program with his arms spread wide and raised to the sky, as if preparing to fully take flight. 

Victor let out the breath he’d been holding and rushed onto the ice, taking Yuuri into his arms before he’d even fully moved out of his ending pose. Yuuri almost fell backwards but caught himself, or rather, Victor caught him.

“So uh, you like it?” Yuuri chanced a guess.

“Yuuri.” He breathed in his scent, sweat soaked and covered in that unique smell only found in an ice rink, but still so very Yuuri. “It was magnificent. It’s… perfect for your theme, and well…”

“Well?” Yuuri chewed his bottom lip, nervous.

“Of course I always knew you were an amazing dancer, but it seems your gift for choreography is just as pronounced.” He grinned into Yuuri’s shoulder. “I’ll help you fill in the holes, but I just hope I can do justice to what you’ve already created.”

Yuuri flushed. “It’s not that good.” He coughed. “A-anyway, tentatively I’m thinking of doing the triple axel in the first half of the program, then putting the quad toe triple toe combination and the quadruple flip in the second half.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

He raised his head to meet Victor’s eyes. “But, if I feel confident enough on the quad lutz by the time the Grand Prix series rolls around, I could try a quad flip triple toe and a quad lutz?”

Victor tapped his chin. “I believe you can do what you set your mind to, but if we’re worried about it, we can start with the simpler layout and work toward the more difficult one by the time the Olympics roll around.”

Yuuri nodded in agreement. “We’ll see once we get closer to the season.”

Victor squeezed Yuuri’s shoulder. “Do you want to take the rest of the day off?”

Eyes widening, Yuuri shook his head. “We can’t do that. We just got here. Plus, shouldn’t we work on choreo--”

He put his finger on Yuuri’s lips and smiled. “I have the recording of your program on my phone, and I’ll need to study it for quite some time before coming up with choreography for the rest.”

“I see. But there are other things…”

“Yuuuuri, as your coach, I demand that you be rewarded with a day off for doing something as monumental as choreographing your own program.”

He clasped Yuuri’s hand and smiled. “Even now, while you’re technically on vacation, you never stop working as hard as ever.”

“I guess that’s true…”

“I’ve always wanted to go to Nanatsugama, and it’s still early enough to catch one of the boats out there,” Victor offered.

Yuuri ran his hand up Victor’s arm, resting it on his bicep. “The tours are only in Japanese, so I imagine you might need an escort.”

Victor pulled back, mock offended. “Yuuri! My Japanese is excellent.” He pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s cheek. “I’d still like an escort though.”

Chuckling, Yuuri waved him off. “All right, all right. Let me take a shower first and we can head out.”

Victor skipped off the ice behind him, his heart light.

  
  


 


	3. Chapter 3

Summer passed in a daze of hot days, intense practices, ice shows that both he and Victor participated in, costume fittings, and for Yuuri, a ridiculous amount of time in front of the camera. He was already one of the faces of Mizuno sportswear, but going into the Olympic season he’d been snatched up for commercials, print ads, and online ads by Lotte chocolates, Nintendo, Japan Airlines, Seiko, Lotteria, and most bewildering to him, Uniqlo, which he’d spent four days for modeling in Tokyo. He could understand the appeal of having a celebrity for some of the other brands, but Yuuri, as much as Victor insisted otherwise, still didn’t consider himself model material.

The giant billboards plastered across Tokyo of him in stylish casual wear, hair slicked back but glasses still on (the photographer apparently liked that look), seemed to prove otherwise.

He was in Tokyo, or rather, Saitama, right then, so he couldn't miss the ads even if he tried. He had other endorsements lined up too, and he knew the Japanese Olympic committee and skating federation would want him to make appearances at a few events. Victor had been right, he was absurdly busy. If both he and Victor had been doing this, he wasn’t sure when they’d ever have time to see each other.

In fact he was spending almost as much time in Japan as St. Petersburg, although he didn’t lack for ice time in either place. At current he was there for a competition called the Japan Open; a casual, non-ISU event where skaters from North America, Europe, and Japan divided into teams and went against each other in a free skate only format.

Retired skaters were often invited to compete in the event alongside amateur skaters, so Victor had agreed to be part of the team Europe delegation, along with Christophe Giacometti as the other men’s singles representative. Retired skater Nobunari Oda had agreed to participate on behalf of Team Japan, along with Yuuri, and Leo de la Iglesia and Jean Jacques Leroy were on the docket for North America.

Yuri Plisetsky had groused about not being chosen for Team Europe, but Victor had reminded him that _he_ was technically still Europe’s top skater, and that Yuri was competing in the Cup of Nice in France just a week after the Japan Open so it probably wasn’t best to go anyway. This did not appease him.

Competing against Victor again, even if it was a less serious competition, filled Yuuri with a fire of inspiration, and he was glad of that, because this competition was where he was debuting his free skate. He’d first skated his new short program at an ice show in late August, but as of current, the only thing he’d revealed about his free was his music choice.

He’d been working on the quadruple axel, but much to his frustration, it wasn’t even close to ready yet. In his more cynical moments, he thought he would never land it, but that wasn’t the case, it just couldn’t be. Yuuri was close. He could feel it every time he pushed a little bit higher; underrotated, but almost there, a fall, but he’s sure he got all the rotations in. Yuuri would conquer that jump, and he’d show the world what he could do. He’d envisioned it as part of his free skate from the get go, and whenever he skated his program in practice, he liked it well enough, but it felt incomplete. He knew it was because of that jump, the final leap that would take him through the gate of heroes that the music so magnificently spoke of; in brass, in violin, in woodwind, on ice.

Victor took his turn for Team Europe, skating his previous year’s free program, and it was exquisite. Yuuri thought that it looked like he’d never left the ice for even a day, which indeed, he was on it every day coaching Yuuri, but his own practice time had certainly decreased. He wore white for it; a sheer jacket glittering with gold and trimmed in silk, and he made it known from the beginning the previous season that his programs, romantic in theme, were dedicated to Yuuri.

Every time he skated them, it was like he was writing a love letter to Yuuri with his blades on the ice, caressing it and pushing deep edges into it in a way that was simultaneously graceful and powerful.  

Yuuri loved him so much.

After Victor exited the ice and received his score, Yuuri ran to his side, grabbing his hand and pulling it to his lips to press a kiss to it. “That was beautiful, Victor.”

Victor smiled, heart shaped and wide. “Thank you, Yuuri. Now you go out there and do me one better, won’t you?”

Yuuri scratched his cheek and glanced sideways. “I’ll try. Leo has to skate first though.”

Noticing the way his posture had tensed and the way he wasn’t making eye contact, Victor took both his hands and pressed a kiss of his own to them. “Yuuri, you have nothing to worry about. Your free program is outstanding and everyone here is going to be so privileged to see it.”

“Don’t hype me up that much, Victor.”

Victor scoffed. “Yuuri! I’m serious. It’s a work of art, and so are you, so it’s going to be wonderful.”  Yuuri sighed and frowned. “All right. Even if you don't skate clean, it doesn’t matter here. If you’re worried you can lower the difficulty of your jump content.”

He shook his head. “And risk losing to you?”

Victor let out a laugh at that. “That’s more like it. Now let’s get you ready.”

Yuuri smiled, and he felt a swell of confidence bloom inside him. “Okay.”

Victor and Yuuri walked back toward the entrance to the rink as Leo was finishing his program. Victor assisted him in unzipping his jacket, revealing his new free skate costume to the public for the first time.

It was red and gold; blazing crimson, gild gleaming, and bold in a manner so different than Yuuri’s previous costumes. The top was velvet, all the way down to the sleeves which belled at the elbow and turned into sheer red fabric; cuffed at the wrist with a line of gold embroidery and diamond bright crystals. The collar resembled that of a kosovorotka, harkening back to the Russian roots of his music, but embroidered with gold thread and elaborate cutouts that continued onto the high collar and the back of the shirt; a rich display of gold thread and sequins, crystals delicately laced into the embroidery, and glittering jewel-like red stones.  The pants were black, with just a small embroidered decoration of red and gold that vined a few inches from the bottom on the seams.

Leo earned a personal best, which everyone, not just Team North America applauded.  

Yuuri squeezed Victor’s hands and stepped out onto the ice. The music began, and Yuuri moved.

The skate was not perfect. He felt tight during a few of his jumps, although they were clean, and he doubled his attempt at a second quad toe loop. But Yuuri felt good, he felt relief, and although he knew his program wasn’t complete yet, that it wouldn’t be until he could fit in that final component, he was proud of how he’d skated. He was at the precipice of the hero’s gate, and he was so close to passing through it.

Team North America ended up winning the competition due to their stronger showing in the ladies’ competition. Yuuri won the men’s free skate, but it was extremely close between him and Victor. In truth, Yuuri thought the win should have been Victor’s, and that his home team advantage had caused them to prop him up a couple of points via program components, but when he mentioned that to Victor, Victor shrugged it off.

“It’s not a big deal either way, and you skated brilliantly,” he said. “Besides, if they’re scoring your program components so high right now, maybe your scores in the Grand Prix series will be a little fairer this year.”

Yuuri didn’t reply. He knew what Victor spoke of. After the Grand Prix Final in Barcelona, there had been a large surge of controversy regarding the results. Yuuri skated more difficult programs with higher potential program components, and Plisetsky’s fall in the free skate should have outweighed Yuuri’s step out in the short program on a more difficult jump. There was a wide consensus, among a lot of skating fans and even officials, that Yuuri should have won the Grand Prix Final. In the quiet of the dark, one evening in St. Petersburg, Victor had revealed that he felt the same.

But it was a difficult quandary, because Yuri Plisetsky was just a child, and although they weren’t extremely close, they knew each other well enough that Yuuri would not dream of hurting him by trying to delegitimize his victory. He’d been asked about it in a couple interviews, but Yuuri always answered humbly, saying that he was proud of how he skated and thought Plisetsky skated brilliantly too, but in the end it was up to the judges. Victor, though he also stayed silent, had expressed reservations about how Yuuri was going to be scored in the future. They were very much alleviated after Worlds, but he still occasionally worried.

“They call it the Nikiforov effect,” Victor had explained once. “People have been joking that I’ve been overscored for years---”

“You’re not overscored!” Yuuri had interrupted, feeling very passionate about his statement. Victor quirked an eyebrow.  “At the very least, regardless of scores, your victories have all been earned and deserved.”

Victor had let out a brief laugh. “I agree with you on that,” he’d said. “You’ve probably heard people complain about it; ever since I came on the scene, people have said Russian skaters have been overscored in every discipline, and apparently it’s all my fault.”

Yuuri had gone silent for a moment and bit his lip, looking away and finding the floor suddenly very interesting. “Um, no offense, but it started way before you came onto the scene.”

At that, Victor had laughed louder and captured Yuuri in his arms, wrestling him down to the bed and playfully smacking him on the shoulder. “Yuuri, how dare you!” he’d joked. “For making such an accusation, I’ll need you to give me a kiss for every Olympic title that a Russian skater has ever won.”

Yuuri had snorted and pressed a kiss to Victor’s lips, pausing before continuing. “Do I have to include all the Olympic gold medals from before the dissolution as well?”

Victor smirked. “But of course. We’ll be here a while, but I don’t mind. Do you?”

Yuuri had silenced him with another kiss.

* * *

 

Yuuri won the NHK Trophy in mid-november. It was, despite his excellent previous season, technically his first win on the Grand Prix series. But despite the enthusiasm of the home crowd in Osaka, and despite the gold medal that they strung around his neck, he wasn’t as satisfied with the victory as he could have been.

He’d used the simpler layout for the competitive debut of his short program, and he’d fallen on the last half of his combination, much to his eternal frustration because he hadn’t missed that once the previous season. His free skate had been mostly clean, but he felt tepid and uninspired throughout parts of it. It wasn’t the performance he wanted to put out there.

There had been… a lot on Yuuri’s mind during the competition. He’d gone to Osaka several days early to film an ad with a Japanese cleaning products company. It was a lighthearted premise; Yuuri, or the Yuuri in the commercial, went into the bathroom and looked in his dirty, very much in need of some glass cleaner mirror, and his reflection was that of himself with messy hair, crooked glasses, and a sloppy looking sweatshirt. He groaned and used the glass cleaner on the mirror, and when he looked back into it, his reflection had changed into clean cut, ice ready Yuuri, with his hair slicked back, his _Yuri on Ice_ costume on, and a gold medal around his neck. It was extremely silly, but as far as commercials went, it wasn’t bad. Victor had insisted he’d done so much goofier, and Yuuri knew better to argue with him on that.

But it was what had happened the day before the competition that had distracted Yuuri, occupying his mind throughout the entire event and causing those tendrils of anxiety to lace themselves through his body, causing him to feel panicked; hands clammy and breaths deep before he’d skated both times. He’d managed to push them down, but it had resulted in skates lacking the deft touch, emotion, and passion that he’d come to be associated with. His program components had been a couple of points lower than usual as a result.

After the late afternoon practice the day before the competition, Yuuri had been pulled aside by a JSF official because ‘they needed to talk right now.’ Yuuri was familiar with the official. She’d always been friendly before, but her crisp pant suit, sharp bobbed hair, and the frown on her face showed that she meant business today.

She led Yuuri into one of the small dressing rooms located in the arena, and motioned him to sit down across from her.

“Miss Shinbo,” Yuuri read her name tag. “What can I help you with today?”

Miss Shinbo smiled a little at that. “I apologize for not setting up a formal meeting, Athlete Katsuki. We’ve all been so terribly busy, and it’s been hard to catch you when both of us aren't occupied.” She raised her head, her blunt cut bangs swishing on her forehead. “I’m not taking you from any plans right now, are you?”

Yuuri gestured in front of him with his hands. “Ah, no. Victor and I planned on going out to dinner, but that’s not for a couple hours. We were probably just going to go back to the hotel right now.”

“That’s good.” She placed her hands in her lap and sighed. “This is about you and Mr. Nikiforov, actually.” Yuuri raised his eyebrows and his mouth dropped open, his anxiety spiking. “It’s nothing like that, she said. We’re happy about your arrangement with Mr. Nikiforov and the success he’s helped you reach in your career.” Yuuri let a small smile cross his lips at that, his cheeks pinking.

He found himself fidgeting with his ring, a nervous habit he’d picked up months ago.

“It’s about your training location,” she continued. “Although it makes things easier for the JSF when they’re in Japan, several of our athletes have trained overseas, including you when you were in Detroit. We have no problem with that.”

“Then what is the issue, Miss Shinbo?”

“You continuing to train in St. Petersburg has created some tension between our federation and the Figure Skating Federation of Russia.”

Yuuri wrinkled his nose, his eyes going wide behind his glasses. “Why? Victor and I pay for ice time just like everyone else who trains at Yubileyny.”

“They didn’t have a problem with it before Mr. Nikiforov retired,” she clarified. “They were reluctant, but content to allow you to train in Russia if it meant Mr. Nikiforov was still skating. But since he retired, they’re irritated over the fact that you’re still there. I’m sure that you’re aware that, even if unfairly so, the FFKK partially blames you for Mr. Nikiforov’s retirement. You’re also the only non-Russian skater at Yubileyny, Athlete Katsuki.”

Yuuri clenched his hands in his lap. “And how does the JSF feel about this?”

She rubbed the creases in her forehead and shook her head. “To be honest, we’d rather you train closer to home as well. Or at the least, at a facility we have better connections with. Not that I’d ever expect you to go back to Coach Cialdini, but Detroit would have been fine.”

Yuuri scratched the back of his head. “Victor and I haven’t really discussed any permanent arrangements, but moving is… a lot. Training was going fine in St. Petersburg, so I don’t think it crossed our mind to change that during such an important and busy season.”

“Moving is a lot of work,” she said.

“What happens if we don’t move?” Yuuri asked. “There’s so much going on as is that it would be a lot easier for us to stay there throughout the season.”

“Did you know that during the Sochi games, Russia refused to allow any of their coaches to assist or coach any non-Russian skaters?” Yuuri nodded. “And this time around, they’re dealing with the potential that their athletes may not be able to participate in the games at all due to the large-scale doping during those Olympics.”

Yuuri grimaced. “I’m sure they’ll let innocent athletes compete. Skaters like Yurio and Mila weren’t even old enough to compete during Sochi.”

Miss Shinbo rested her chin on her knuckles. “I agree, there will certainly be a work around, but the point is that tensions are high, and their champion skater retiring to coach a non-Russian skater, combined with the fear they may not even be able to compete period, has them on edge.”

Yuuri glanced down to his feet. “Uh, yeah that makes sense.”

“I’m worried for you and your success Athlete Katsuki,” she said. “You and I both know this sport isn’t always fair, that things happen behind the scenes that have absolutely sabotaged the dreams of athletes before.” Yuuri felt a shiver of nerves go up his spine. “You are the most promising male singles skater we’ve had in years, and seeing you finally come into your potential the past year has been an incredible gift and honor.”

“Thank you…”

“I just want things to be fair for you. I don’t want to even consider the idea of any federations or judges working against you.” She leaned forward and made eye contact with Yuuri. “Please come back to Japan to train. You don’t have to formally move yet if you don’t have time. Permit me if you find this intrusive, but could you not stay with your family for a few months like you did last year?”

“Y-yeah,” Yuuri’s voice was shaky. “We can do that. I’m sure Victor will be fine with it.”

* * *

 

Victor was furious. Yuuri waited until after the gala to tell him what the official had discussed with him, and he was infuriated in a way that Yuuri wasn’t sure he’d ever been before. He was calm, but there was a tightening of his fist and his lips were pressed so tightly together that Yuuri thought he may bruise them.

He was upset that Yuuri had waited to tell him, knowing that Yuuri had let it bottle up throughout the competition, impacting both his performance and his emotional state off-ice. But most of all, he was angry at the situation.

“I don’t mind moving back to Japan,” he’d explained. “In fact… I’d already hoped to move back to Hasetsu eventually.” He shuddered. “But how dare they.”

The tension in the room was tight, and at one point it snapped and the two ended up in a genuine fight, throwing words back and forth that they didn’t mean. It was something that hadn’t happened to this level in almost a year, and it hurt. Yuuri’s breath was ragged as he hid in the bathroom, sliding down to the floor and letting loose a cry.

It was stupid, they both knew it. They weren’t even mad at each other. The situation was just so high stress that they’d taken it out on one another. Yuuri swallowed a lump in his throat and stood up to open the door, aching with guilt over his behavior, but Victor knocked on the door first.

“Yuuri,” he said, his voice gentle and quiet.

Yuuri opened the door and wiped his teary eyes with the heels of his palms. Victor’s expression was so clearly filled with sadness and regret, that Yuuri didn’t pause before wrapping his arms around his shoulders in a hug so tight he thought it may take both their breaths away.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri said, a crack in his voice.

“Oh love, me too,” Victor whispered into his ear. “I was just so angry. Because of me, they’re using you as some sort of pawn and I---”

Yuuri pulled away and put a finger to Victor’s lips. “You did nothing wrong. I’ll take being their pawn if it means I get to have the best coach and best fiance in the entire world.”

Victor let out a shuddering breath, squeezing Yuuri to him again and breathing in the scent of his soft, black hair. “Your hair has gotten so much longer, Yuuri.”

Yuuri let out a short laugh. “That’s what you’re commenting on?”

He shook his head. “I love Japan. I’d love to live here, in the same town as your family. When we have time after this season, we can get a house…”

“By the beach?”

“Yes!” He smiled. “And with a garden. You can have much more than just the little succulents you have at our place in St. Petersburg, and Makkachin will love the space.”

“And within walking distance of Ice Castle…”

“Yes. My apartment isn’t big enough anyway, since we’re going to need so much more room to display all the gold medals you’re going to win.”

“Victor!”

Victor moved his other hand up, running it through Yuuri’s hair as well. “I’d love that. I just wanted it to be our decision though? And it makes me so angry that it’s not; that even after retiring, the FFKK is trying to dictate my life… and by extension, yours.”

“It’s not right,” Yuuri huffed.

“It’s okay though.” He ran a finger down Yuuri’s cheek. “I’d rather you bring back an Olympic gold medal to Hasetsu than St. Petersburg anyway.”

Yuuri’s expression brightened at that, a wide smile on his face. “You’re the best, Victor.”

“I’m just telling the truth.” Yuuri let out a quiet laugh in response. “If you want, you can go ahead to Hasetsu? I’ll go back to St. Petersburg and grab Makka and have clothes and belongings shipped. We won’t have time to formally move until after the season, but I do have experience in packing up my belongings very quickly.”

Yuuri snickered at that. “I guess you aren’t new to on the fly moves to Hasetsu, are you?”

Victor gasped, mock offended. “It happens to be a skill of mine, and I’m very proud of it.”

They both laughed, and then Victor’s expression turned rueful.

“Yuuri, in all seriousness, I’m not going to let anyone harm your chances this season.” He held his shoulders tightly. “If I have to go against my own federation, I will. Your dreams are the most important thing in the world to me.”

Yuuri pressed a brief kiss to his lips. “Thank you, Victor. I think it will be fine as long as we listen to them. I’m going to try my best not to worry about it and just… skate.”

“And I’ll just coach,” Victor replied. “Skate America is in a couple of weeks, and I want your programs to be perfect by then, all right?”

“I’ll try,” Yuuri said, then paused. “I mean, they will be. I won’t settle for anything less.”

“That’s my Yuuri.”

* * *

 

Yuuri hadn’t even made it out of the line for checking in at the hotel before Phichit pounced on him, babbling about how excited he was to see him and how happy he was that they were sharing Skate America as an assignment. Yuuri laughed and returned the hug, his heart full at seeing his best friend again in person. Victor watched on fondly and finished checking them in, taking Yuuri’s luggage from him so he could finish commiserating with his friend.

Phichit’s laughter echoed throughout the lobby as he told a story about Celestino snoring so loud on the flight from Thailand that one of the flight attendants had come over and told him to quiet down, and Yuuri smiled. “How have you been, world champion?”

Yuuri snorted. “Phichit…”

“Olympic gold medal favorite then?”

“Stop it!” But Yuuri was still smiling. “I’m fine. Being back in Hasetsu is nice, even though the circumstances weren’t ideal.”

Phichit squeezed his shoulder. “It’s probably kind of nice to be able to work on _that_ jump in private anyway, isn’t it?” Yuuri nodded. “How is it going?”

Yuuri bounced up and down. “I uh--- landed one the other day.”

“Yuuri!” Phichit practically squeaked.

“The landing swung pretty widely, so I’m sure the GOE wouldn’t be high, but I did it!”

Phichit beamed. “Quad axel selfie before I head out then?”

“Head out?”

“I have an interview,” Phichit explained. “Do you want to get together for dinner later? I'll text you.”

“Yeah of course,” Yuuri responded.

Phichit grabbed Yuuri around his shoulder and pulled him into the selfie. “Say quad axel!”

“Umm quad---”

The camera clicked before he finished. “Don’t worry,” Phichit reassured him. “I won’t reveal your secret on instagram.” He winked and walked away, leaving Yuuri to turn back toward Victor.

“I honestly don’t know how you keep up with him,” Victor chuckled.

“It’s an acquired skill,” he replied, grabbing his suitcase from Victor’s hand. “Let’s go up to the room. I’m starting to feel the jet lag, and if Phichit wants to go out to dinner later, I should sleep some of it off.”

“All right sleeping beauty, let’s get you to your bed then.” Victor pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Yuuri couldn’t have been happier that he took that nap, because dinner with Phichit that night was a rowdy affair. He’d invited several former rinkmates from Detroit, a few of which were competitors at the event, but most of which were just attending to cheer on their friends and fellow skaters.

“It’s only about eight hours from Detroit to Lake Placid, so we decided to just hope in a van and come,” one of the skaters, an American ice dancer that had won junior worlds two years ago, had said. She smiled. “Plus, I couldn’t turn down the chance to see the Yuuri Katsuki again. I saw Phichit last season, but it’s been almost two years since most of us have seen you!”

Yuuri blinked. “Uh, _the_ Yuuri Katsuki?”

Yuuri glanced over to Victor, the most famous figure skater on earth, who was sitting next to him and being almost ignored by the gaggle of skaters at the table.

“World record holder, world champion---”

“And record holder for most tacos eaten at Taqueria El Rey’s taco Tuesday,” Phichit continued.

Yuuri nudged Phichit’s arm. “Phichit!”

“How many tacos can Yuuri eat?” Victor asked, his eyebrows raised in genuine curiosity.

“They were only 1.50 a piece, and I’d just missed the podium at Four Continents,” Yuuri tried to argue.

Phichit mimed counting on his fingers. “Well I think he spent about thirty dollars on tacos, so you do the math.”

“Wow, amazing,” Victor said, staring at Yuuri as if seeing him in a whole new light.

“Is Victor turned on by Yuuri’s taco eating prowess?” another skater piped up; a singles skater who Yuuri remembered as being the bronze medalist at US nationals the previous year.

Yuuri was reminded, once again, how frank Americans tended to be. “Stop, stop!” he begged. “Can we go back to talking about me winning worlds or whatever it was before this?”

“In all seriousness,” the ice dancer’s partner said. “You were amazing, Yuuri. We miss you here in Detroit, but if leaving is what it took to get you where you are, we’re happy it happened.”

Yuuri’s cheeks flushed and he looked down at the table, staring at the pepperonis on his pizza and idly wishing there were a few more. “Thanks, guys. That… means a lot.”

“You’ll have to give us your autograph though,” the other ice dancer said.

“What? I mean I can but---”

“You’re the most famous of all of us now,” she continued.

“I’m pretty sure that’s Victor…”

Victor waved his hand and shrugged. “Me? I’m just world champion Yuuri Katsuki’s handsome fiance.” He smiled cheekily.

“World champion and marrying your celebrity crush,” she added, shaking her head. “Hey Yuuri, what do you think my chances are with Gabby Daleman?”

“Or Maia Shibutani,” another skater added, sighing wistfully.

“Or Anurak Puntasrima,” Phichit said, with an exaggerated swoon.

“That’s not even a skater, Phichit,” Yuuri groaned. “It’s the star of _King and the Skater_ _4_.”

“And he is _my_ celebrity crush,” he replied, placing his hand over his heart, mock offended.

Victor wrapped an arm around Yuuri’s shoulder. “Yuuri, if you’re not going to eat that pizza, can I have it?”

Yuuri’s eyes widened. “Of course I’m going to eat it! I’ve just been distracted with everyone embarrassing me.”

“You can get vengeance on them later when you take all the gold medals for Japan, hmmm?” He poked Yuuri’s cheek.

Yuuri smiled, almost predatory. “I think that’s fair.”

Everyone else at the table snickered and went back to their food, and the rest of the night was filled with friendship, laughter, and… probably a few more embarrassing stories than Yuuri would have liked.

 

**Figure Skater Yuuri Katsuki Wins Skate America, Qualifies for Third Grand Prix Final**

_Phichit Chulanont of Thailand wins silver and also qualifies, Leo de la Iglesia of the USA takes bronze_

_Saturday November 25, 2017-_ Japan’s Yuuri Katsuki extended his winning streak, which started last February at Four Continents in Gangneung, South Korea, by handily winning the last event of the Grand Prix series, Skate America in Lake Placid, New York. He qualified for the Grand Prix Final for the third year in a row.

Katsuki’s free skate, to Mussorgsky’s _Great Gate of Kiev_ , included four quadruple jumps, three of which he landed cleanly, and one of which he had a minor error in the form of putting a hand down. His short program, which included two quadruple jumps, was clean and earned him a season’s best.

“I felt really good during this competition,” Katsuki said in the press conference after the free skate. “At the NHK Trophy a couple of weeks ago, I wasn’t very happy with my programs. Here, I was very pleased. I was in a better mood, and it might have helped that my good friend was competing at this competition too.” He smiled toward Phichit Chulanont, his long time friend and former training partner.

Asked if he felt ready for the Grand Prix Final, which will take place two weeks from now in Nagoya, Japan, Yuuri let out a short laugh. “Um-- I think so? I might switch my current jump layout around, but for the most part, I feel prepared for the rest of the season. My coach Victor and I are working on some potential changes to my programs, and it’s up in the air whether they’ll be ready by Nagoya, but hopefully they will be by the Olympics, at least.”

Katsuki, along with Switzerland’s Christophe Giacometti, Russia’s Yuri Plisetsky, and Canada’s Jean Jacques Leroy, are considered favorites for the podium in Pyeongchang.

“It could really go to anyone,” Phichit Chulanont said during the press conference. “I’m not a favorite, but I’ve qualified for the Grand Prix Final for the second year in a row, so I think I have as good a chance as a lot of other skaters to medal there.”

Yuuri nodded next to him. “I agree with Phichit. There are so many incredible skaters in our discipline right now, I think it’s impossible to predict.”

America’s de la Iglesia, who walked away with his second Grand Prix bronze of the season after a third place at Internationaux de France, said his focus was on the US National Championships in early January. “I’m disappointed I didn’t make the final, but to know I was at least close gives me confidence going into the rest of the season. For now I just want to focus on having my best showing at US Nationals a little over a month from now so the I’m assured of gaining a spot on the Olympic team.”

Katsuki and Chulanont, along with Christophe Giacometti of Switzerland, Yuri Plisetsky of Russia, Guang Hong Ji of China, and Jean Jacques Leroy of Canada, are the six skaters who have qualified for the Grand Prix Final. With wins in both of his events, Katsuki is the top qualifier.

* * *

 

Victor and Yuuri arrived back in Hasetsu the day before Yuuri’s birthday and partook in the expected meal of katsudon as well as a dip in the onsen, which soothed Yuuri’s aching muscles, before they went to bed.

In the morning, Yuuri awoke to Makkachin as his only company in bed, and groggily, he made his way downstairs and to the common area. Victor came out of the kitchen, bright and beaming and way too awake considering the flight they’d just been on yesterday. His hands were covered in flour and he was wearing the same apron Mari and his mother wore. Yuuri’s heart felt so warm, that he almost didn’t notice how exhausted he still was.

“Yuuri!” he exclaimed. “I’m helping Mama with breakfast. She made all kinds of food, but can you believe? She’d never had blini! I helped her make some.” He crossed the room and wrapped an arm around Yuuri’s shoulder, neither of them concerned about the flour he got on Yuuri’s sleep shirt. “Happy birthday, darling.”

Yuuri pressed a kiss to Victor’s flour covered cheek. “Thanks, Victor.”

In return, Victor patted Yuuri’s cheek and winked. “No practice today by the way.”

“But---”

“Yuuri, it’s your birthday,” Victor interrupted. “You deserve a day off after Skate America too. We’ll get back to working harder than ever tomorrow.”

Mama Katsuki took that moment to exit the kitchen, a huge tray of food in her arms. She placed it on the table and walked over to Yuuri, patting his cheek and placing a kiss on his forehead. “Happy birthday, Yuuri. Twenty-five now, can you believe?”

Yuuri ducked his head. “Thanks Mom.” He smiled.

“There, there.” She laughed. “Now we’ve got all your favorites, and I didn’t forget the oyakodon like I did last year!”

Mari and Toshiya made their way into the dining room, both drawn by the smell of Mama Katsuki’s cooking, and they exchanged birthday wishes with Yuuri and good mornings with Victor, before sitting down to eat.

The blini, much to Victor’s happiness, were a hit. “I had no idea you could cook!” Mari proclaimed.

“I can cook a few things,” Victor replied. “Why is that surprising?”

Yuuri grimaced. “Mari thought you would have a housekeeper,” he explained. “When we moved to St. Petersburg she assumed I wouldn’t have to do work around the apartment because you probably hired someone to do it all for you.”

Victor blinked in confusion, ignoring a piece of rice that had caught on his lip.

Mari rested her elbow on the table and shrugged, leaning her chin onto her palm. “You’re like, super rich. I just assumed most rich people had them.”

“I can promise you I’ve always done my own laundry,” Victor said. “And although I would gladly do Yuuri’s share of housework for him, he would never have allowed such a thing.”

Yuuri’s cheeks pinked at this, Mari barked out a laugh, and Mama Katsuki said something about how it was ‘so sweet.’

“This afternoon the Nishigoris and Minako are coming over for lunch, and after that… I assume you and Victor have plans for the evening?” Toshiya asked.

Yuuri nodded. “Uh, yeah. We were planning on going out to dinner.”

“I made reservations at Caravan last week,” Victor said.

Mama smiled. “Oh Toshiya and I went there for our anniversary last year. It’s delicious.”

The food was indeed, delicious, and Yuuri spent the entirety of his birthday surrounded by family, friends, and love. He facetimed with Phichit before they left for dinner and received texts from most of his St. Petersburg rinkmates and a few of his Detroit ones. A package arrived in the mail that day from Chris, and Yuuri was honestly frightened to open it in front of his family, so it was still left untouched in the bedroom Victor and Yuuri were sharing.

The next morning brought a return to rigorous practice, and Yuuri felt as if he were buzzing under his skin with how much he wanted to get back on the ice.

“It’s only been two days,” Victor chuckled.

Yuuri stretched his arms above his head and bent backwards, as if doing an off-ice ina bauer. “Two days is a long time to be off the ice. I have a jump to land and programs to perfect.”

Victor followed him onto the ice. “Yuuri, if you don’t perfect the axel, you’re well aware you can win without it right? You can focus on the lutz if you’re wanting to add another quad…”

Yuuri frowned, his eyebrows creasing downward. “It’s not about whether I can win with it or not. I know I can!” He shook his head, trying to think of how to explain. “But… when I decided on this music last summer, when I decided on this theme? It was right after I realized I wanted to go for this jump.” He idly did a few rockers. “My program isn’t complete without it, because it’s been there as part of it from the beginning. I have a story I want to tell with my free skate, and right now it’s like that story is missing the climax.”

Nodding, Victor took Yuuri’s hand in his and let out a ‘hmmm’. “All right, Yuuri. If that’s how it is, I understand. I have absolute faith that you can do this,” he said. “I just didn’t want you to wear yourself down and worry over it so much you end up distracted from your other goals.”

“Thanks Victor.”

“To think when I met you, you could only land one quadruple jump, and now you’re here almost doing the impossible.”

“It’s never been impossible,” Yuuri countered. “Someone is going to land it eventually.”

Victor recalled, less than fifteen years before, a famous retired Russian skater saying he thought the quad axel would ‘probably kill you’ and that it was ‘impossible’, but he decided not to argue with Yuuri about that. “And that someone is going to be you.”

Yuuri nodded, and there was steel in his eyes and he was a flame, not flickering, but full and bright, a fire that was in no danger of being extinguished. “I know.”


End file.
